Baku

LIndsey C. ( 30s, Female, United Kingdom )

Eurovision is one of life's great Guilty Pleasures. And what's not to love? Triumph and Disaster (usually British), trashy europop, costumers from a time that taste forgot, political intrigue: It's like Dame Edna meets West Wing.

The contest this year is off to Azerbaijan following their emphatic 2011 victory with Running Scared. Tickets to the Grand Final in Baku will apparently set you back more than £200 a pop – Reason enough to celebrate at home, never mind the controversy over Azerbaijan's record on human rights. It was the perfect excuse for a little pre-Eurovision party planning and a visit to London's original Azerbaijani restaurant, the fittingly-named Baku.

As it happened, there was a singer performing the night we went. Sadly, she proved to be one of the few bum notes in an otherwise superb evening. It's not that there was anything bad per se in her performance, it's just that it was so out of place (Think the Russian grannies, not Jemini): Baku's main dining room is a gorgeously opulent, bright room with lavish chandeliers, wooden floor and modern art, a million miles away from the dimly-lit, smoke-filled world of jazz, and far too echoey to allow dinner conversation to continue along in the background whilst she sang. Even the upstairs, whilst superficially more suitable with its low lighting and Buddha Bar vibe, was frankly too busy being cool.

Fortunately, the food was a definite hit. The simple welcome drink of yoghurt and fresh herbs ("Atlama") served with some of the best unlevened bread I've ever tasted set the tone for the rest of the meal. In spite of the iPad menu, the kitchen seemingly makes few concessions to modern gimmicks. Ok, so the table of Russian oligarchs behind us were served their platter of caviar amidst a flurry of dry ice, but otherwise there wasn't a molecule or a snail porridge to be seen. As the manager Philippe explained, Azerbaijani cuisine places great emphasis on fresh ingredients, reflecting the abundance of fruit, herbs and vegetables in the country, something of which the nation is genuinely proud.

There's no less abundance of choice on Baku's menu which offers a potentially bewildering selection of over 60 different dishes. Unsurprisingly, given Azerbaijan's location on the Caspian Sea, fresh fish including Sturgeon (and Caviar) feature extensively. There's also much that's familiar from Turkish, Mediterranean and Arabic cuisines (including a whole page of Kebabs), reflecting the influence those cultures have exerted on the country's history. The odd fusion dish pops up from time to time – Azerbaijani Foie Gras Pate, for example, and a combination of Canadian lobster, saffron and linguine which I'm sure was actually delicious but which sounded slightly odd.

Based on our experience, whatever you order will be pleasant. My husband's main course of Dolma (lamb stuffed vine and cabbage leaves) was good if a little uninspiring (a Greek entry in more ways than one). However, the real wow moments in the meal came with the simpler dishes. This is no way to belittle the kitchen's skill – It takes true culinary genius to blow as cynical old diner as me away with as humble a dish as Shuyud Plov (fruity, saffron rice). Given that a large proportion of the world's population base their national diets on the stuff, I've always known rice must have something going for it, I just couldn't for the life of me work out what it was. Thanks to Baku, I understand. This rice was melt in the mouth creamy and light, balanced perfectly with sweet apricot and just a hint of bitterness from the saffron. Caramelised onions added textural interest as no doubt would cashew nuts had the kitchen not been so charmingly accommodating of my inconvenient nut allergy.

Likewise my appetiser of Gutab Three Ways – fried pastry pancakes each separately stuffed with pumpkin, lamb and herbs – was a triumph, a perfect Eurovision power ballad of individual sweetness, umami and bitter aromatics all coming together in a stirring climax. By contrast my husband's choice of Kuku (little tortilla-like bites of egg, walnuts and herbs) and Blinis was more euro-pop. Each element in itself was delicious but you couldn't help feeling together, it was a bit of a mish mash.

In terms of wine, you won't find it hard to play safe if you choose. The relatively short list is heavily biased towards the old stalwarts Champagne, Claret and white Burgundy. However, if there's one place I'd urge you to be adventurous, then it's here. Given all the hype currently around Lebanese wines, there's a chance to sample a top-notch red (Comte de M, Chateau Kefraya) whose rich, fruity style I can see would match the cuisine perfectly. Equally, however, there's an excellent selection from Georgia, one of the oldest wine producing regions of the world and, in ancient times at least, one of the most highly regarded. We had the Kondoli Vineyards Rkatsiteli '09, a steal at £35. Although relatively pale in colour and restrained on the nose, on the palate the wine is surprising full bodied. There's plenty of fruity peach blossum and nutty bitter almonds, rounded off with a spicy lingering finish. Think Gruner Veltliner meets Northern Italy.

On the whole, if you're expecting dramatic revelations, Baku isn't the place to go. My biggest discovery of the night was probably finding the location Baku (Azerbaijan) on the map thanks to a mix-up with Google. This is definitely closer to the reassuring familiarity of Greece voting for Cyprus than the culinary equivalent of Lordi. That said, it's one of the most enjoyable meals I've had in London for a while and, at around £80/head for a three courses (including wine and cocktails), it's also one of the best value – Eurovision eat your heart out.